Within Shadows
by TheHyruleHistorian
Summary: In a time between the events of the Skyward Sword manga's war between Hylia and Demise and the events of Skyward Sword, a forgotten incarnation of the Hero, Link, finds himself in peril in a place of pure evil. This is the origin story of the Shadow Temple and the present-day Sheikah eye symbol, the events of which are based on a theory I had written about it.


I took a few slow steps forward on the blood-stained cement floor, feeling as though my knees might collapse beneath me at any moment. My weak legs shook under the strain of trying to stand on my own after my long imprisonment in the Shadow Temple's torturous dungeons, but still I fought determinedly to keep myself from falling over. I took deep, shuddering breaths as I tried to brace myself against the room's icy temperatures, cringing as I did so; the lingering scent of blood filled the air, threatening to make me nauseous. It was impossible for me to warm myself or shield my nose from the smell while my hands were bound behind my back with such thick ropes, and while I may have greatly desired to burn these ropes away with my magic, I realized that such a move was little more than a dream for me now.

Despite the full extent of my sacred power having been brought out by the evil rituals performed on me by one of my captors, I soon found myself unable to use any of it, as he had made sure to place a spell on me immediately after the ritual was completed. He knew that my sacred Hylian blood allowed me to use powerful magic, and that, if left to my own devices, I would have used the sudden boost in power to my advantage. The curse he had placed on me was meant to solve that problem, and it had done just that; I soon discovered that, despite my suspicions that it had merely been a bluff, I could no longer summon even a single magical ember without losing consciousness completely, and I feared that the consequences would have been much worse if I were to try anything bigger. Given my weakened state, trying to summon stronger magic could easily have proven fatal, and the last thing I wanted to do was kill myself; my people needed me to stay with them, at least until I could free them from this nightmare.

I blinked back tears as I thought of how many people had already lost their lives within these very walls, and how many more might die before this great tragedy ended. I was supposed to be their hero... I was supposed to save them from all of this, yet here I was, being escorted from my chambers by one of my captors, unable to free even myself from my imprisonment, much less anyone else. How had it come to this?

Slowly, my thoughts drifted back to the day that I had first come to this place in hopes of saving the people who had been captured and taken there...

* * *

 _I descended the steps leading down into what once was a mass grave for those who had died during the Demon War. There had been so much death then - leaving less than a quarter of all of the people in the world alive - that obviously, there was no way that anyone could have dug an individual grave for each person who had been lost, especially when Hylia had sent virtually all of the surviving humans, with the exception of the Sheikah tribe, to live on floating islands in the sky - away from the reach of the demons. Having contained the bodies of nearly everyone who was killed by the Demon King and his army across the world, this mass grave was understandably huge. Despite having been told a great deal about it, though, this had actually been my first visit there._

 _In all honesty, the sight that I saw upon descending the stairs was not at all what I had been expecting; a ring of twenty-four torches stood in the center of the room, all of them unlit, surrounding a small, round pedestal with a circle of painted designs and writing hastily scribbled around it. At the back of the room stood a huge, unopened cement door with the original Sheilah eye symbol on it, along with a vertical row of three eyes on either side below it - the highest being open, and each of the ones following closing more and more as they progressed downward. I knew that beyond the door lay the entrance to the Shadow Temple, the evil temple built by a traitor to the Sheikah tribe, where thousands of survivors from across the world, accidentally left behind during the ascension of Skyloft, were being held and sacrificed during dark rituals involving demon worship. I was appalled at the nerve and utter disrespect that this traitor and his men had shown by building into the grave of millions of innocent people who had lost their lives to the very thing he was worshiping._

 _My mind soon drifted away from the thoughts of the temple as I realized how cold I was. It had been raining hard the entire day, but I had endured the long walk and the freezing cold drops of rain in order to reach this place - the very place where I knew I would be able to find this horrific building of death and worship. My mind had been too focused on reaching the destination before I came there, but now I had plenty of time to think about the horrible temperatures I had endured on my journey, and I found myself immediately interested in finding somewhere warm to rest. With great happiness, I realized that the torches would provide an excellent opportunity for me to do so, and so, gratefully, I whispered my thanks to the goddesses as I headed over to light them. The moment my feet touched the circle of painted designs and writing on the floor, though, I stopped, kneeling down to read it with increasing curiosity. The designs were intricate, but the Triforce symbols were left unfinished, as if the job had been interrupted by something; however, the words were mercifully complete, allowing me to read them without any trouble. Slowly I traced the words with my finger as I read the single, repeating plea written there:_

 _"O Chosen One, pray here..."_

 _I read the words softly to myself, barely holding back tears as I thought of the poor people who had written them. They must have escaped from the temple, but they were found - that's why they never finished. They knew they would never get out alive, and that's why they had left me that message; I was their only hope._

O Chosen One, please pray here. _I imagined them pleading,_ Please save us from this evil.

 _"I will," I whispered softly, answering their plea, wishing they could hear me, "I will."_

Din, Goddess of Power, _I silently prayed as I prepared to summon her power in the form of my greatest fire magic_ , lend me your strength.

 _With one hand resting over my heart, I quickly swung the other one to the floor in a downward sweeping motion, crouching as fire flew up around me, extending outwards in a dome shape - lighting all of the torches. Despite my initial reason for wanting to light them, I was no longer doing it for warmth, but for creating lighting for a place to pray. Lighting candles and torches before prayer was a common practice, as it symbolized the banishment of darkness._

 _Feeling the warmth of the torches settling over my cold, wet body, I smiled and closed my eyes in prayer._ O Golden Goddesses, please help me to be the hero these people need. Din, grant me the power to drive back darkness. Nayru, grant me the wisdom to overcome whatever puzzles and traps lay within the walls of the temple, and Farore, grant me the courage to endure whatever horrors I must face. _as I prepared to finish with the final lines of my prayer, I allowed my awareness of everything else around me to fade away, focusing only on my deep communications with the gods,_ O Hylia, guardian goddess of this land, aid and protect me -

 _My thoughts were pulled out of my prayers as I felt a hand quickly slip over my mouth, preventing me from screaming. At that same moment, another hand wrapped around my arms and waist, pulling my back right up against my captor, who as of yet remained silent. From what I could see of the hand covering my mouth, he wore white gloves with diamond patterns cut into them, revealing a small amount of his deathlike, pale gray skin._

 _"Hello, boy," I heard his light, sadistically pleased voice whisper in my left ear with twisted amusement, "we've been expecting you. It really was quite rude the way you kept us waiting." I struggled against his hold, but it was far too strong for me to break free from._

 _"See," he cooed in my ear, "when those blasted prisoners first escaped and left that marking on the ground outside the temple, I was ready to destroy it so you'd never find us, but then, while I watched those fools get dragged back to their cells, I thought to myself, 'Ghirahim, you've really got an excellent opportunity in front of you - it would be a sin to let it go to waste.' So I left it there, and well, it looks like my little plan worked out just fine! I knew that it would draw you to us, you devout little goddess-lover; that's why I waited behind that door for the perfect opportunity to grab you."_

 _Then he laughed an awful, wicked laugh before adding, "You were so caught up in your stupid little prayers that you didn't even hear me open that huge door!"_

 _Desperate to get free from my helpless position, I managed to get my mouth around one of his fingers, and bit down hard. He immediately released his grip over my mouth, but just as I was taking advantage of the moment, and starting to pull free, I felt his now free arm wrap around my neck._

 _"You're quite a feisty one, aren't you, boy?" he laughed, "No matter. I'll love trying to snuff out that little rebellious flame of yours; it should prove to be quite a challenge!"_

 _"Who are you?" I asked, daring not to move for fear he might tighten his grip on my neck._

 _"I am Ghirahim, Demon Lord of the Surface!" he proudly exclaimed before his voice suddenly took up a dark, threatening tone, "You'd better remember that, because I expect you to call me by my title."_

 _"And if I don't?" I could hardly believe the bold words that were coming out of my mouth, given the danger I was in, "What are you going to do - kill me?"_

 _"No, as much pleasure as it would bring me to murder you, I'm afraid there are other plans for you. I'll just have to settle for beating you into oblivion." Ghirahim replied in an alarmingly cheerful tone._

 _"Go ahead," I forced out a bitter laugh as I spoke, "I'm not afraid of you."_

 _"You're going to regret that!" he hissed, squeezing my neck a little harder, then called out towards the open door, "Valindatoria! Take this child to his cell!"_

 _An annoyed sigh escaping from his lips, the man that Ghirahim had been speaking to stepped out from the shadows, quickly walking over to us, and, with some frustration, used thick rope to tie my hands behind my back._

 _"Why do I always have to do your dirty work?" Valindatoria sighed, his accented voice taking on a whiny, complaintive tone._

 _"Because I have more important things to do." Ghirahim simply said, strutting off into the temple._

 _"Like what?" Valindatoria asked._

 _The Demon Lord paused to look back at him. "Getting my beauty rest. I must keep myself looking fabulous, after all." he answered, continuing on his way down the dark hallway._

 _"Ha!" Valindatoria called to his retreating back, "I wish you luck on that - can't make a silk purse from a sow's ear."_

 _"Shut up!" Ghirahim growled as he walked away. A slight smile on his face, Valindatoria then guided me down the hall, as well._

* * *

"Keep moving." the man behind me ordered, his tone quiet and calm, yet I caught a hint of something else mixed in. What was it, anxiousness? That was uncharacteristic for Valindatoria.

In all the times that I'd seen him walking about the building, I'd never known him to be anything but eerily calm and collected - well, when he was doing his job on his own, at least; his professional demeanor went out the window whenever he was working alongside Ghirahim, during which periods of time he'd almost constantly be throwing sarcastic remarks at the Demon Lord and defying him - an unwise move, perhaps, given Ghirahim's violent and vengeful nature, but Valindatoria didn't seem to care. Seeing him this nervous unnerved me, as well, and I wondered what would possibly cause him to act this way.

Of course, Ghirahim had told me that today was going to be different...

* * *

 _Slam!_

 _The sound of the heavy metal door pounding onto the ground made me jolt awake. Someone had entered my cell. I sighed weakly and opened my eyes; what was it now?_

 _"Good morning, goddess-lover!" Ghirahim's annoyingly chipper voice reached my ears long before I even saw his ghoulish face. His words came in an annoyingly singsong tone, and I desperately wished he would stop._

Great, _I thought to myself with a disgusted sigh,_ him again.

 _"What is it today, Ghirahim? More torture?" I asked weakly in a hushed_ _tone, "Or is it time for me to witness the daily sacrifice?"_

 _A low, wicked laugh came from deep inside of the Demon Lord. "Hm, well, in a way, yes - there will be a sacrifice. But today's a very special occasion." he coolly replied._

 _He inched closer to me and lifted my chin with one finger. "It's a shame our little torture sessions have to come to an end so quickly - you've only been here, what, two years? - but it was fun while it lasted." he said, his dark, evil eyes boring into mine._

 _I had to admit that he was really beginning to worry me. What was he planning? Every day, for the past two years, I had been led out of my cell to watch the sacrifice of at least one innocent victim out of their countless captives, sometimes even two or more, all in the name of their false_ , _demonic god - the Demon Bird, Demora, the so-called Judge of the Underworld. What could possibly be worse than that?_

 _I pulled my head away, unable to do more with my hands high in the air, hanging in the shackles that were dangling from either side of the "X"- shaped whipping post that I was chained to. I held my head up, looking to the side in defiance, willing him to see that my spirit had not been broken, and never would be, no matter what he did._

 _"After all this time," he growled, grabbing my bony chin and digging his nails into my pale skin, "you still try to resist your fate, boy? I planned to extinguish that fire of yours when I first brought you here, yet you still managed to keep it burning..."_

 _He released my chin in disgust, shoving it to the side, before adding, "No matter. That ends today. That hope of yours can't stay alive much longer."_

 _With that, he turned on his heels and left, calling out to Valindatoria to come and take me out of my cell._

* * *

"It won't help you to keep stopping, lad." Valindatoria's voice shook me out of my memories once again. Though as quiet as usual, his voice sounded firm and insistent, and I didn't want to push him; ordinarily, he seemed to be a very easygoing and harmless individual when it came to his interactions with me, but since whatever was happening today already had him on edge, I didn't know for sure what he might have been capable of if I upset him at a time like this.

An extraterrestrial from another planet, Valindatoria's true form was nothing like the sophisticated man that he appeared to be. In his disguised form - the form that he let everyone see - he looked like a tall, slender man with brown eyes, dark brown hair, a mustache, and a short, well-groomed beard trimmed to about a quarter of an inch. However, his true form - the one he hated and tried to hide - was nothing of the sort. It was an unusual creature with an almost demonic looking face, with pure black eyes, and horn-like ears on top of its head. At least, that was what I could see from the painting that the owner of the Shadow Temple had made of him.

Since the owner of the temple had the Lens of Truth - which could see the truth beneath an illusion - I had no reason to doubt that what he painted was very accurate to Valindatoria's true form, indeed. I had to admit, though, just by looking at Valindatoria and hearing him talk, I would never have known or suspected that he had ever been such a thing; he always seemed so human. Of course, that was exactly what he was aiming for, I was sure, since his assigned job was often to lure in the people that didn't make it to the floating islands in time to ascend to the sky. Being the con man that he was, Valindatoria would lure them into the Shadow Temple and onto the Ferry to the Other World by telling them that the boat could take them to the Other World to visit the loved ones they had lost in the Demon War. It was only once they had gotten onto the boat and began their journey down the River of Mist that they realized that it would not lead them up to the place where departed souls lived in peace and happiness, but rather, would take them down to the Underworld, a place of misery and suffering. Sadly, it was far too late to escape by then, and when the boat reached the end of its journey along the river and began to drop into the bottomless pit, the people were left with a choice - jump off onto the large platform nearby, and become prisoners in the Shadow Temple, or fall to the Underworld and live in pain and misery for eternity; naturally, most chose to abandon ship and become prisoners.

Under the extraterrestrial man's advice, I kept walking forward slowly, taking no time to look around as I went along; I had taken the same walk many times, and by now I knew the temple's entire layout by heart. I could easily describe everything in the room without a single glance in any direction; to my left was the final section of the River of Mist, where the Ferry to the Other World reached the end of its journey, and plunged down into the Underworld. Straight ahead of me, there was nothing more than a gray wall, and behind me, the door from which I had come. To my right, though, was by far the most dreaded place of all - the Altar of Demora.

On the other side of a vile, mist-filled pit, this most unholy place lay, waiting for its next victim. A simple, large platform though it was, it held a frightening aura that was unmatched by any other room within the temple. On either corner of the far side of the platform, up against the wall, stood a giant statue of the Demon Bird, himself, up on a pedestal, at least fifty feet high. At the center of the far wall, between the two statues, was a door that led to another chamber which I had rarely seen, but I paid this little mind, for the single object that was sitting in the middle of the platform was far more important than whatever might be behind that door. It was an altar; a simple slab of flat gray stone with ancient Sheikan writing around its base, and shackles chained to the smooth surface on top - the very place where I had been forced to watch all of the victims be sacrificed upon, one by one, day after day. The common belief amongst the prisoners was that once you had crossed that pit and reached the altar, you would not be coming back alive - a fear which I could sadly confirm to be true.

"This way." Valindatoria's voice was cold, almost mechanical, as I felt him guide me to the right.

The moment that this occurred, a sickening feeling came over me - cold, hard realization striking my heart; we were crossing that pit by way of a temporary magical bridge, and I had yet to see any sign of today's victim. Upon further examination of this bridge, the diamond-shaped pattern told me that it was Ghirahim who had created it, and when I raised my head, I was not surprised to see him standing in the far right corner of the room, leaning against a wall with a smug, evil look of satisfaction on his face - one which Valindatoria did not return. However, I payed the two little mind, for already something far more frightening had captured my attention; standing near the altar was a hooded figure that I was all too familiar with.

Covered in head to ankle by a brown robe like that of a monk, the figures's only visible features were his black boots, and shiny black leather gloves. He stood lighting a few black candles surrounding the altar, and in the dim candlelight, I could make out his sharp, evil red eyes under the shadows of his hood, almost seeming to glow. This man - Virgil was his name - was a necromancer, a man who practiced the Dark Arts in order to raise the dead and/or harm the living. The curse that he placed on me to bind my sacred magic, making me unable to summon its power without exhausting myself, was one of the many spells that he had learned, as were the rituals in which he sacrificed his victims to his "god" Demora.

Although he was a Sheikah by blood, his actions were nothing like the other members of his tribe. And yet, as horrible as he had become, I knew that he had once been on our side. But then, at the end of my previous life...

* * *

 _Virgil stood watching the little island that would one day become Skyloft float into the heavens, unable to help feeling very alone. He had lost his father at the hands of the Demon King just a short time before the war began, and now he stood a few miles from his tribe's camp, out in the darkness and the silence, watching the little plot of land that was floating upwards towards the heavens - now just a tiny dot in the sky. The Hylians, and the other humans - every human tribe but his own - they were all leaving, going to some sunny paradise in the sky. Why couldn't his people just go with them? It wasn't fair - at least, he didn't think so. His mother had told him that he should be glad that his tribe, the Sheikah, were given the task of staying on the Surface and helping the goddess seal away Demise; she said that he should be honored. He wasn't honored, though; how could he feel honored when his father, the once revered Lord Dagianis, Minister of Religious Affairs, was being called a traitor? How could he feel honored when they had been so sure that his father was a traitor, that they had discussed changing their symbol in remembrance of that? He hoped they would decide against changing the symbol; he refused to believe that his father would betray his tribe, but most of all, he refused to accept that his father would betray him._

 _"O Hylia," Virgil sighed as he watched thick clouds separate the Surface from the place where Skyloft lay, "why can't I just go up there with the other humans? Staying here wasn't my decision; that was Impa's. I want to be in the sky with my friends."_

 _"Your friends?" a light male voice said mockingly, "Do you really think that those fools are your friends?"_

 _Virgil whirled around to face the owner of the voice, and found the Demon Lord there._

 _"You - !" Virgil yelled angrily, "You're the Demon King's servant!"_

 _"And that makes a difference how, exactly? It doesn't change the fact that what I said is true." Ghirahim told him calmly, "Have you already forgotten what they said about your father?"_

 _"Everyone has said horrible things about him, not just them." Virgil answered coldly._

 _"Of course they have - because of the Hylians! Those people were the ones who started the rumors about him!" Ghirahim reminded him, "Do you really want to live amongst them?"_

 _"N-no...you're mistaken. They wouldn't have done that." Virgil responded, though he felt his certainty beginning to wane with each word that the Demon Lord spoke, "They're good people."_

 _"They're not your friends, boy." Ghirahim said, "They hate your father! Why do you think they made up such lies about him?"_

 _"I-I..." Virgil stammered for a moment or two, trying to come up with an argument against Ghirahim's words, but failing to find anything to say._

 _"They hate your entire tribe because you've always been there to aid the goddesses." Ghirahim started again, a ghost of a smile on his white lips - he was winning; teenagers were just too gullible, especially the rebellious ones like this eighteen-year-old Virgil. This boy had once been as dedicated as his mother to helping the White Goddess, Hylia, and doing her bidding; what was it about teenagers that made them want to go against everything that they'd ever believed in?_

 _"They wanted to take your place, and now, they have. Not far from here, the same Hylian whom your father had imprisoned just died after sending that island into the sky." Ghirahim told him, "He's going to take your place as the hero. The goddess is in love with him, so she's going to grant him the ability to be reborn. That means that your people will never be rewarded again; he'll always overshadow them."_

 _The Demon Lord paused for a moment, chuckling softly to himself, before adding, "Not that she ever would have rewarded your people anyway - she's just using them."_

 _"Hylia would never do such a thing." Virgil told him, his tone caught somewhere between sadness and disbelief._

 _"Oh? If she really cares about them, then why didn't she send them up with the rest of her humans? Why didn't she care as much about your tribe's well-being as she cared for her precious Hylians? Why did she leave you on this forsaken Surface instead of whisking you away to the sky?" Ghirahim asked, motioning to the Sheikah campsite, a few miles to the east of the high hill where the two men had been standing._

 _With the campsite resting in a low valley, the hill had been a perfect vantage point, affording an excellent view of the camp that was illuminated by the glow of the bright campfire at its center._

 _"I'm sure she had her reasons for doing what she did." Virgil said, though he didn't sound sure._

 _"Oh yes, she definitely did; she wanted to leave her most disposable human tribe to watch over the Surface until the important people are able to return safely." Ghirahim told him._

 _"No..." Virgil said, just shaking his head, trying to force any doubt out of his mind, trying to strengthen his resolve._

 _"Hylia never loved you or your people. She only loves the humans that she wanted to rescue - the ones that were left behind were left due to their own slowness. If she could've waited for those ones without endangering the others, she would have, but she couldn't. There's no denying she loves them - it's your tribe she doesn't care about." Ghirahim added._

 _"No." Virgil said firmly, the tension building inside of him, "You're lying! Why would you even tell me about this?! You don't care about my people! We're the enemy!"_

 _"You're not my enemy, boy - the goddess is." Ghirahim corrected him, "I pity your condition. I want to help your people find the recognition they deserve."_

 _"Why should I believe you?! It was your leader - the Demon King - who killed my father!" Virgil yelled._

 _"If I hated you and wanted to kill your people, then why would I be talking to you right now? I obviously knew where to find you, and I knew where your tribe's camp was; if I wanted you dead, I already would have had every opportunity to wipe you out. Yet here I am - trying to help you." Ghirahim replied calmly, "As far as your father, we didn't have any choice in the matter. We had explained all of this to him, and he wanted to help us win the war. Everything was going fine - Hylia's chosen one would die in prison, and we would defeat the goddess that was suppressing your people, and then we would take them under our wing. I knew in time they would see that we were their friends, and then they'd be able to enjoy true recognition and appreciation. But your father, like most Sheikah, was determined to keep fooling himself into believing that the goddess cared about him, and at the last minute, while we were readying our army, he had a change of heart. He was going to tell the goddess about our plan! If she knew, she would never have given any one of them the chance to switch to a better side. It was a hard choice to make, but if we hadn't killed him, your tribe would never have had the chance to escape this horrible suppression. Your father was a good man. He always had his tribe's well-being on his mind, even if he was misguided."_

 _Virgil looked down, his resolve withering away more and more with each second that passed. Was it all true? It all sounded so convincing. But more importantly, he didn't down Virgil's father. He called him a good man, one that would never betray his tribe._

He actually understands. _Virgil thought to himself._

 _It was tragic, but sadly typical; a frustrated teenager can easily be swayed to someone's side if he believes that he is "understood" by this person. Ghirahim knew that, so he fed off that weakness and used it to his advantage. Now that Virgil was in his grasp, he could slowly train him to hate the Hylians even further, and despise the goddess. Ghirahim would go on to tell Virgil, as he fled from his tribe that night, that he should take with him the forbidden magic that was entrusted to his father to guard and keep hidden from the rest of the Sheikah. He would tell the boy that he could get his revenge on the goddess by taking all of the non-Sheikah humans that remained on the Surface, and sacrificing them to a far more worthy god - namely, Demora - in the new temple that they would build._

 _And in remembrance of this utter betrayal by a boy whom they had once trusted - a boy who would go on to cause some of the worst tragedies known to our world - the Sheikah added a teardrop to their symbol, which they have used ever since._

* * *

As we stepped off of the magical bridge onto the platform, I heard Ghirahim snap his fingers, and it disappeared in a flurry of diamond shapes; however, I had little time to process the fact that this had even occurred, or that it had been done to trap me further, for I could see that Virgil had stopped what he was doing, and was now watching us as we approached him. I could see his gloved hands gripping an old, brown leather book - the forbidden book of Sheikan Necromancy, within which lay the majority of the curses, spells and rituals that he had used over the years. I knew by heart its weathered surface, and I visibly shook in fear and disgust as I watched him caress the book as if it were sacred to him. Although I had hoped that he hadn't noticed this, I knew that he had when, in the candlelight, I managed to make out a sadistic grin that immediately came over his face.

"Please, don't do this to me." my voice was soft and somewhat broken as I pleaded with Valindatoria, "This world needs me. Help me get out of here. Please. I won't bear you any grudge for what has been done here. Just help me."

Had it been anyone else escorting me to this place, I wouldn't have bothered, but Valindatoria was the one person in all of this whom I dared to put my trust in; after all, he had never shown any true desire to bring harm upon me or my people, but rather, did everything that my two other captors told him to do with great disgust and frustration. He seemed to be the unwilling one in all of this, presumably only doing what he did out of the fear of his punishment if he were to disobey them. I nearly considered him an ally, since he had often saved me from Ghirahim's cruelty by distracting him, and annoying him until he would completely forget about whatever he had been planning to do. When he wasn't around - and he worryingly hadn't been for the past month or so up until now - I sorely missed his company and the distractions he created. At this point, he was my best and surest, if not my only, shot at freedom.

As I pleaded with Valindatoria, I heard his footsteps fall silent, and he stopped forcing me forward. Much to my comfort, this had also caused the ropes binding my hands together behind my back to loosen, if ever so slightly - allowing for a little better circulation and bringing a little relief to my bruised and bleeding wrists, which the rope had been squeezing and rubbing against as I moved, causing me pain. I sighed in relief at this action, which seemed to hold the promise that he might help me escape. Had I actually gotten through to him?

Valindatoria remained quiet for a moment, and I thought I heard him almost sniffling, and trying to take a deep breath to prevent himself from losing his composure. My curiosity getting the better of me, I did my best to try to turn my head back as far as I could and catch a glimpse of him.

When he saw my sad blue eyes watching him, he turned his head away, straightening his tie and closing his eyes, acting as if he didn't hear or see me - as if he didn't care what was happening, and had no desire to stop it. For a brief moment, I thought I saw a tear fall from his eyes, but I wasn't entirely sure. I sighed and looked down, caught off-guard when I felt him shove me forward halfheartedly with a sigh, trying to get me moving again; perhaps he didn't really care, after all.

When we were just three feet away from Virgil, we stopped, and Valindatoria walked up to my side to greet him.

"Is this the one you asked for?" Valindatoria asked, shaking his head in disbelief when his co-worker nodded the affirmative, "I thought he would have put up more of a fight than this. Besides, he's so young - just a lad still."

It was true that I was young - I was just barely eighteen, but what that had to do with anything, I wasn't certain. Was he trying to save me from being sacrificed somehow?

"Does it _look_ like there's anyone else it could be?!" Virgil snapped, motioning to the entire room around him. When I heard this, my heart grew heavier, nearly stopping as an even deeper realization of my current situation came over me.

* * *

 _Ghirahim had just taken me back to my cell, sick with guilt and worry. I had just witnessed Virgil sacrifice one of his captives for the first time in my life._

 _"Please," I begged, "don't kill anyone else. You can do whatever you want to me, just let them go."_

 _"You actually think you have any control over what I do?" he laughed, "How pathetic! Your permission means nothing to me - I can already do whatever I want to you. We own you now; your life is ours to do with as we please. I could kill you this instant if I wished it." And just to demonstrate this, he summoned a knife into his right hand, and brought it dangerously close to the underside of my chin, laughing when I flinched in fear._

 _For a moment, he just stood there, watching my nervous expression. My terrified gaze remained on the knife until he made it vanish again._

 _"Oh, are you scared, boy? Does our little courageous 'hero' have a fear of pain?" Ghirahim asked with feigned sympathy, before turning to speak to Valindatoria, who had assisted him, rather uninterestedly, in chaining me back up, "Have you ever seen something so pathetic before in your life?"_

 _"Am I dismissed?" the extraterrestrial man hissed through closed teeth, trying to bite back some witty, sarcastic remark that he always seemed to have on-hand for whenever Ghirahim asked him a question._

 _"No, you're not." Ghirahim replied sharply, "You're going to help me show this boy what true terror is."_

 _"Oh, I couldn't possibly do that." Valindatoria said. "Why not?" Ghirahim groaned angrily._

 _"He's already seen your hideous face. There's nothing as terrifying as that." Valindatoria replied with a smirk._

 _When he saw Ghirahim begin to glare at him, he simply added, "Oh no, don't do that. You seem to get even uglier when you're angry - if that's even possible."_

 _Grumbling under his breath, the Demon Lord refrained from giving in to the increasing urge to kill his partner in crime. The two never did seem to get along well, and I knew that the only reason why Ghirahim had left Valindatoria alive was because he had and knew how to operate the Dominion Rod - the powers of which granted the various contraptions in the temples the ability to continue spinning, dropping, lifting, and sliding endlessly, and also proved instrumental in the construction of the Shadow Temple, allowing for quicker and easier building by levitating building materials while its owner guided them into place._

 _"You're going to help me torture him." the Demon Lord commanded._

 _"I will not. You don't need me to help you with that, anyway. All you have to do is talk awhile. Listening to your lectures can be worse than pulling teeth." Valindatoria told him._

 _"Shut up!" Ghirahim exclaimed.  
"Just being around you is torture-" the extraterrestrial began to go on. _

_"Get out of here!" Ghirahim screamed, but Valindatoria just smiled as he strolled out; he had won._

 _"Look at yourself, boy!" Ghirahim yelled suddenly, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and yanking me forward as far as he could, forcing me to meet his gaze, "You're completely helpless! You're going to watch every one of those humans die, and then, when we're through with them, you're next! You may as well accept your fate already!"_

* * *

 _...when we're through with them, you're next!_ The words echoed in my mind as my thoughts returned to the present.

"No... No, they can't all be dead..." I whispered softly in disbelief. But they were dead - I knew they were, because that would be the only reason why everything would have happened the way it did today. I had failed them all, and now it was my turn to be sacrificed.

"He looks so naive and young." I heard Valindatoria protest to Virgil, still certain that there must be some mistake over who I was, or at least, pretending that he was certain of it.

"Look," Virgil growled, growing fed up with this whole conversation, "I was alive when this 'pure' Hylian was born into our tribe. They called it a miracle, because despite being born into a family of purely Sheikah bloodline, he didn't have a drop of Sheikah blood in him. They said that his blue eyes looked just like Hylia's Chosen Hero, and that surely this was a sign that he was that hero reborn. Don't let his youth deceive you - this is the man most responsible for our troubles."

Valindatoria nodded in acknowledgement of his words, but other than that just stood there, probably either contemplating what had been said, or awaiting his next orders; regardless, Virgil didn't take well to it.

"Leave him!" Virgil barked, and I felt Valindatoria reluctantly leave my side in complete silence.

"Ghirahim," I heard Valindatoria complain after a minute, "why did you get rid of the bridge?"

"Well, I didn't want the boy escaping, you fool. That's why." Ghirahim replied, not moving from where he was resting against the wall by the left statue of Demora.

"Escape to where, exactly? You designed this building to be escape proof." Valindatoria remarked, a hint of contempt darkening his tone this time.

Ghirahim smiled, and then, with a shrug, simply said, "Still."

"Well, bring it back. I can't very well get across without it." Valindatoria told him.

"Oh? Where do you think you're going? The party is just getting started. You have to stay and watch the fun." Ghirahim replied.

Valindatoria started to speak up again, but Ghirahim cut him off. "I insist." he said menacingly.

Valindatoria sighed and stood by Ghirahim, clearly reluctant to do so, but not feeling as though he had any other choice.

Virgil suddenly took a step towards me, and I instinctively stepped back.

"It makes me sick that my people raised you as one of their own," he told me, "but today, I'll finally be able to make up for all that."

"You traitor! You betrayed your entire tribe, Virgil! They're all ashamed of you - even your poor mother! You turned your back on them when you joined the enemy!" I exclaimed.

"How dare you!" he yelled, "I never betrayed my tribe! Ghirahim and his Master are not my enemies - you and your precious goddess are!"

"That's right, Virgil," I heard Ghirahim say as he strolled over to us, "we aren't the ones who abandoned your people on the Surface, and left them for dead. We aren't the ones who that little goddess favored over your tribe. Your tribe and mine were both unappreciated by her. But my Master, he appreciates us. All we have to do to prove our loyalty to him and to Demora is to finish this final step, and sacrifice her precious little Hero to the Demon Bird. Once the ritual is over, Demora will finally be immortal, and you'll have gotten the revenge that you've always wanted on the goddess and her Hero."

As the Demon Lord walked towards me, I stepped back further and further, until I felt the back of my foot touch the edge of the platform where the pit was that Valindatoria and I had crossed. I was trapped!

"What's the matter, little Hero?" Ghirahim laughed, "Aren't you going to try to get away again? Oh, but there's a deep pit behind you. Didn't that lead to the Underworld?"

He raised his finger to his chin in mock contemplation before adding, "Yes, that's right. And you wouldn't want to fall in there, would you? Your poor little soul would be tormented for all eternity."

I stared at the floor in silence. Don't let him get to you. I thought to myself.

"Look at me when I speak to you, boy." he said, grabbing my chin roughly and forcing me to look up, "Your defiance has all been very adorable, but it's time to give up. You're the last one alive, and pretty soon it'll be curtains for you, too."

Seeing the startled look on my face, but not getting an actual reply, he sort of smirked and walked away, still frustrated that he had not broken my spirit, that within me a flame of undying hope still burned and always would.

Not wishing to tempt fate, I walked away from the pit - only to be grabbed by Virgil. Realizing that there was nowhere to escape to, I didn't try to fight him off, as it would only wear me out and cause me pain. When I saw him dragging me towards the altar, though, I couldn't help pulling away a little.

"Lie down." Virgil commanded, shoving me backward against the altar. I fell onto it with a whimper, as my wrists were still bound behind my back, and I fell onto them hard. Leaning down, Virgil cut the ropes binding my wrists, before grabbing my wrists and chaining them to the altar, then did the same with my ankles.

"Please," I begged, "please don't do this. I was born into your tribe - that makes me family. You wouldn't kill one of your own brothers, would you?"

"You are not my family in any way." the young necromancer hissed, "You are Hylian, and your life means absolutely nothing to me."

With that he whirled around to face the four items that he had laid out on the floor in a row nearby. The first item was the Lens of Truth - a red lens with a purple magnifying glass frame meant to imitate the Sheikah eye symbol; as previously mentioned, it could be used to see through illusions such as false walls and invisible objects. The second object was the Mask of Truth - a simple white mask with a face on it that looked like that of a gossip stone, but with no teardrop; its purpose was seeing into other people's minds - a power which Virgil abused by using it in interrogations to find the locations of other surviving humans. The third item was the Hover Boots, a pair of boots once used by Hylia that allowed her to fly, and could grant mortals the ability to briefly walk on air, allowing them to cross small gaps. However, the fourth item was the most horrible and terrifying of all - Virgil's dagger; it was black, with deep engravings of ancient Sheikan writing on the blade that glowed a terrifying red. This was the same dagger that had been used to take thousands of lives before my own, lives that I was forced to watch end. It was an object of pure evil.

"It isn't just Hylia you're betraying, you know!" I called out to him, trying a different approach than before, "The Golden Goddesses forbid such evil acts as human sacrifice! They are your Creators - your Mothers! They gave you life!"

"'Mothers'? They never cared about my people, not even half as much as they cared about your kind! I couldn't care less what they think!" Virgil barked out, turning around to face me again.

I stared at him sadly, my haunted blue eyes pleading to him to stop before it was too late. What I received in return was just a cold, heartless stare.

"How pathetic! You think I'm going to spare you? Do you really think that if you talk to me long enough, you can make me believe your lies about your 'loving' goddesses?" he hissed, "Save your breath - you don't have that many more left to take before I end your life. Why don't you make the most of it by praying to your stupid goddesses? Maybe they'll grant you a swift death." With that, he turned on his heels, and walked towards the pit.

Had I been in any better condition, I would have been able to escape the temple quite easily; with my fire magic I could have melted the shackles that chained me to the altar, and then I could have used the Hover Boots to get back across the pit. Once I was there, I could have created a magical pathway to cross the River of Mist, then, I could navigate the temple with the Lens of Truth until I got back to the entrance. Opening the huge cement door would prove to be a bit more difficult, but I'm sure, with the use of magic, I could manage it somehow. After I'd done that, then I'd finally be able to -

Oh, what was the point in thinking about it? I could never be free, not with this curse holding back my ability to use magic. I'd only knock myself out if I tried it, and I'd be even more helpless then; I would not make myself helpless - I would not die submissively. If Virgil was going to take my life, so be it, but I wasn't going to make it easy for him; I wasn't going down without a fight. Weak though I may have been, I would make it as difficult for him as I possibly could.

Having tucked his book under his arm, Virgil pulled it out and opened it up, turning the pages until he had found what he was looking for. He then spoke in the ancient Sheikan language that so few even used these days.

" _O Demora, Judge of the Underworld! The time you have so long awaited is nigh!_ " The entire room fell silent as he spoke, and the maddening sounds that ordinarily filled the entirety of the temple died down into nothingness, as though all awaited the arrival of the Demon Bird. Well, all except for Valindatoria, who was purposely humming, feigning boredness, if for no other reason than to mock the Demon Bird - at least until Ghirahim elbowed him in the ribs, effectively shutting him up.

Suddenly, a loud flapping sound split the silence as the monstrous being flew up from the pit, flying over us, and landing in-between the two statues built in his image.

Demora, the Demon Bird, was actually much smaller than the statues might lead you to believe, being just a little bigger than a loftwing. In fact, he spoke very much in the same manner as the Red Loftwing did during my previous life - using an odd form of telepathy. He was unusually frail, and perhaps fittingly so, given how the emaciated look was a common thing in the temple - sported not only by many of the beings depicted on the statues throughout the building, but also by Valindatoria, and sadly, now myself, as well. Demora's wings were bat- like with hands for gripping, his beak was long and sharp, and his eyes were red. Atop his head were two pointy spikes; whether these were horns or ears, I was never quite sure.

I could feel his eyes glaring down at me, sending chills up my spine that I tried badly to ignore.

" _So this is the 'Hero' that the humans look up to?_ " he asked Virgil in that deep, evil tone of voice that I had so come to despise, " _Impossible. This is a mere boy - a naive child of no more than eighteen, by the look of him._ "

Over by the wall, I heard Valindatoria start talking again, "See? I told you, you must be making a mistake. Even he thinks so."

"Silence!" Virgil shouted angrily - the first order of the day which I had seen the extraterrestrial immediately obey.

"Must I prove to you who this child truly is?!" the necromancer groaned.

"Allow me to demonstrate to them, Virgil," Ghirahim said as he walked over, courteously bowing before Demora, "if I may."

"Go ahead." Virgil told him, his voice sharp, annoyed.  
" _Indeed._ " Demora added, " _Prove to me that this child is who you claim him_

 _to be._ "

With a laugh, Ghirahim approached me, raising his hands above me and moving his fingers in intricate patterns - all part of the spell he was using.

Suddenly, a dull pain filled my entire body, all of my limbs aching so badly that I couldn't help giving out a soft whimper.

Almost immediately, my entire body started to radiate a soft golden light which quickly grew brighter, glittering as if there were a million gold stars surrounding my form - a manifestation of the sacred power that lay inside of me. The light continued to grow brighter and brighter until Ghirahim was forced to shield his eyes from its radiant glow.

" _That's enough!_ " Demora yelled to the Demon Lord, " _Stop!_ "  
With a wave of Ghirahim's hand, the light began to dissipate, slowly

dying down until it was merely a gentle gold glow enveloping my body.

"As you can see," Ghirahim spoke up proudly, "this is no mere child. He is the reincarnation of Hylia's Chosen Hero, and within him lies the sacred power that you'll need to gain complete immortality."

As Ghirahim began to walk away, and the pain from his spell subsided, I found myself laughing loudly at the irony of the situation.

"You call yourself a 'god'," I called out to the Demon Bird as I laughed, "yet you cannot even see who I really am beneath my youthful appearance? How can you fail to know something so important? Gods are all-knowing and all-seeing - you clearly are not!"

" _You foolish boy! How dare you mock me! You will pay for these sins!_ " Demora shouted.

"Sins? Ha! I can only sin against a true god! You may take my life, but that will not be fair judgement, that will be murder, and for that, you will be brought to justice." I exclaimed, suddenly feeling exhaustion setting in from the immense torture I had endured during my imprisonment. For the longest time, I had managed to fight it off, but now I could no longer hide it.

For a moment or two, the Demon Bird just stared down at me coldly, and though I wanted to lock eyes with him defiantly, I simply couldn't summon the strength to lift my head, instead resting the left side of my face against the slab, and staring blankly across the room, watching the River of Mist with little concentration.

" _End him._ " I heard Demora finally command Virgil with great disgust.

"Goddesses," I prayed out loud in a weak whisper, "I care not what these people do to me, nor do I ask that you end my life now to spare me the pain. I am willing to face whatever I must today, for I trust that you will take good care of the people in the sky, and that you will send them salvation. All I ask is that you please forgive these people; save their souls, before they become consumed by evil." But even as I prayed, I knew that, for Virgil, it may already have been too late.

Apparently, Ghirahim had heard me, because I saw him roll his eyes in disgust.

Briefly, I wondered if Valindatoria had heard me, as well, and if he had, what had he thought? The two weren't standing very far away from each other now - both of them standing by the pit - so, it only seemed logical that if Ghirahim had heard me, Valindatoria would have, too. As I lay there, watching them, I saw Valindatoria turn his head away, clearly not wanting to watch what was about to happen to me, only to have Ghirahim whisper something in his ear - a threat, I suspected - to which Valindatoria responded by looking straight ahead at me again, a look of pure contempt on his face when he gave a sideways glance back at the Demon Lord.

My focus on everything else came to a halt when I saw Virgil pick up the dagger from off of the floor, and whirl around to face me - pure malice darkening what little of his features I could make out in the candlelight.

Taking the dagger's handle in both of his hands, he raised it high above his head, then plunged it downward into my chest.

"No...!" I heard Valindatoria cry out in distress at the sight, while Ghirahim laughed in twisted amusement.

As the dagger's blade pierced my chest, I felt small drops of my own blood splatter across my neck and chin as an unbearable, indescribable pain filled my body. I screamed loudly, my voice echoing across the temple as I lay writhing in agony and clashing against the chains - the discomfort I felt in my bruised and bloodied wrists from doing so not even registering under what I was already feeling - until I no longer had the strength left to do so, collapsing back onto the altar and breathing laboredly, a slight taste of iron in my mouth as I felt my warm blood running across my chest and down my sides.

A satisfied smile on his face, Virgil leaned over, whispering one little, "Goodbye, Link."

Amidst dizziness and pain, the sound of several footsteps reached my sensitive ears, though apparently Virgil hadn't noticed yet. From that moment on, it felt to me as if time had slowed down, although I knew it hadn't. Every second that passed seemed to last so much longer, and everything I heard and saw seemed to be a faint and blurry memory, moving in slow motion.

As Virgil lit a match and tossed it towards me, I heard shouting from across the pit. The next moment, I heard a yell from the necromancer, himself, as he and Ghirahim seemed to fly into a panic, while Valindatoria appeared to be trying desperately to reach me amidst the confusion. Sadly, this attempt was unsuccessful, as his co-workers seized him mere seconds later and all three teleported out of the temple through the use of Ghirahim's evil magic.

As the edges of my tunic caught fire, I heard a familiar and comforting voice call out to me, calling out once again as the flames grew higher. One second later, a heavy brown blanket was thrown over me, putting out the flames.

"Link!" the voice was a sweet, gentle, feminine one, and I knew instantly who it was, "Oh, Hylia! Link!"

"M-mother...?" I asked weakly, wondering how she had gotten there.

The petite little Sheikah who had given birth to and raised me in this era scooped me up in her arms within the blanket - a task which was alarmingly easy for her, given that, in my starved state, I weighed a mere 100 pounds.

"My baby Link..." she sobbed softly, sitting on the ground as she held the upper half of my body in her lap, reaching up to gently push the loose strands of my hair from my face.

"I'm glad you're here..." I mumbled somewhat softly, looking ap at her.

Just 38 years old, my mother was a beautiful and kind Sheikah lady, with red Sheikah eyes, and long golden curls of hair on her head. Unlike the typical warrior Sheikah seen around the camp, she wore slightly more fancy clothes; her usual outfit was a knee-length indigo dress, and underneath it, she usually wore white slacks, giving off a sweet and feminine charm without being too impractical in her choice of apparel. A small, white leather purse with fringing on the closing flap hung over her shoulder from a long strap, resting on the opposite side of her body; inside it, she usually kept rupees and the occasional homemade potion or soup.

"Impa and your father finally found the location of the temple, after two long years..." her voice was soft and sad as she spoke, wrapping the blanket tighter around me, "Now, we finally have you back, and everything is going to be fine."

"N-no, Mom, I - " I began to speak.

"Shhh, no...don't say anything, Link." She said, gently rocking me a little as if I were still a tiny infant, "Just rest."

The horrible pain I had felt from being stabbed was beginning to fade, all feeling beginning to disappear from my body as the moments passed, the blood loss taking its toll on me.

"Now," she said, smiling gently as she pulled out of her purse a small glass bottle filled with a sky-blue liquid, "this is a numbing potion. I want you to drink this, so Impa can tend to your injuries. Then we can all go home again, and everything will be just like it used to be." She opened the glass bottle and brought it to my lips slowly, waiting for me to drink it.

Smiling sadly, I raised a shaking and unstable hand to gently push the bottle away from my lips. "It wouldn't do any good." I said softly, "My body is already going numb; I can barely feel a thing... It's too late."

"No," she said, half-laughing, half-crying as she tried to smile in denial of the hopelessness of the situation, "don't say that. You're going to be alright! You just need Impa to fix you up, and everything will be fine..."

"There's nothing you can do..." I coughed softly.

"No, please, Link...don't leave us..." she cried, "I just got you back; I can't lose you again..."

"You and Dad still have each other. It'll be alright..." I said, my voice coming out as a weak whisper, "Besides, you'll never lose me; my spirit will always be with you... And someday, when I'm reborn, I will return and defeat the Demon King..."

She cried, holding me close to her heart, before looking down at my blanket, gasping when she saw that it had been completely stained with my blood. She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears that were already beginning to show in her eyes, trying to be strong.

"I can't fight it anymore..." I whispered with a soft sigh, my eyes barely open, "I'm too...tired..."

"I know..." she sniffled softly, holding me close, "It's okay...just rest..." She leaned over more until her forehead was gently touching mine, rocking me back and forth slowly as she started to sing a Sheikan lullaby, just as she had done back when I was little.

I closed my eyes, feeling my consciousness begin to slip away. "I love you, Mom..." I said, my voice below a whisper, slowly fading away into silence, "Thank you...for being there for me..." A tear ran down my cheek; I didn't want to go - I didn't want leave my family with a broken heart, but I had no choice.

"I love you, too, my baby Link..." I heard her say, her hand gently brushing my cheek again as all feeling left my body, and my breathing slowed to a stop, "Link...?"

The last thing I heard was my father's voice as he held my mother close, trying to comfort her as best he could, before everything faded into nothingness, and I knew no more.

* * *

This is a story from long, long ago - a tale of a forgotten incarnation of the Hero, and the true story of the Shadow Temple's bloodstained history that has been lost with the passage of time.

The Shadow Temple now is a place of mystery to many, a hidden building full of horrors, whose history is nothing more than speculation amongst theorists and scholars. For everyone else, time has obscured its meaning, but I shall never forget, for I was there. I heard, I saw, and I felt everything that went on within, its memory forever etched into my soul, just as surely as its consequences are felt within our world to this very day, whether known or not.


End file.
